


The Calm After the Storm

by F1_rabbit



Category: Motorcycling RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-07-11 23:25:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15982721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/F1_rabbit/pseuds/F1_rabbit
Summary: Marc didn't want to end up the focus of the press conference, but he seems to be stuck in the middle of all the drama... again.





	The Calm After the Storm

Marc felt his eyes flash red when he saw Jorge slip into his motorhome, and before he could think about it, he was heading towards Jorge, barging in behind him as Jorge stared in disbelief.

The silence was pierced by the door slamming shut behind them, and Marc felt his heart pound when he realised that he was about to pick a fight with his future teammate.

More drama with rivals wasn’t something that he needed in his life.

But he couldn’t keep his mouth shut, the words spilling out as though his mind was broadcasting his thoughts.

“How could you say that about me?”

“What?” Jorge stepped back, his arm crossed over his chest like a shield.

“I don’t care what Vale thinks, I just want peace in the sport.” Marc knew that he was pouting, but he couldn’t help it.

He was sick of people thinking of him as nothing more than a fanboy who was desperate for Vale’s approval.

Jorge snorted in laughter before covering his mouth, a faint blush on his cheeks as he gestured to a chair covered in clothes.

“Make yourself comfy.”

Marc held up a jacket with a smile, and Jorge shrugged.

“It’s very you.”

“Says the man who wore nothing but denim for years.” Jorge’s tongue teased at his lips, as though he’d thought better about sticking his tongue out, and Marc laughed to diffuse the tension.

“Coffee?”

“No, I’ve had too much caffeine already today.” Marc could feel the jitters spreading through his body, his skin tight across his body as he resisted the urge to scratch.

“Water?”

“Thanks.” Marc made himself comfy in the chair, feeling strange about still having his shoes on in the living area as Jorge wandered off.

He had never spent any time with Jorge, not like this, no interviewer or audience to ease the awkward vibe between them.

Jorge attempted to juggle the bottles of water as he wandered back in, startling Marc out of his thoughts and making him cackle in laughter.

A bottle came flying his way, and Marc caught it one-handed, impressing Jorge with his reflexes.

He sipped at the cool water as Jorge lounged back on the small chair, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath as Marc watched all the tension fade away, a rare glimpse of Jorge without his guards.

But then Jorge opened his eyes, his smile hesitant, and Marc knew that Jorge was back to the carefully constructed persona that kept everyone at arm’s length.

“If you came here for an apology you are wasting your time.”

“No.” Marc took another sip of water as a way of delaying the inevitable. “I just thought that you would be on my side instead of Vale’s.”

Marc hated the fact that he couldn’t stop thinking of Vale as Vale. It was what his fans called him, and he wasn’t a fan.

Not anymore.

“I told the truth, you waste too much energy on wanting Valentino to like you.”

“I...” Marc buried his face in his hands, wondering how he could be a six time world champion and one of the most successful guys in the world, while also struggling to talk about his feelings. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay.” Jorge reached out for a remote that was hiding underneath a magazine on the coffee table, pointing it at the tv as though he was holding it hostage. “Wanna watch a film?”

“Sure.” Marc glanced at the door, chewing on his fingernails as the tv flooded the dim room with a bright white light.

“Any preference?”

Marc glanced over the titles, most of them documentaries, and he winced when he saw the films about Vale.

Jorge sat up, flicking off the tv and plunging them into darkness, the sun setting rapidly outside, but Marc was happy with that. He didn’t want anyone to see him like this.

Upset over a guy.

If he had a sister he’d be telling her that she shouldn’t waste time on a guy who didn’t treat her right.

So, why was he unable to take his own advice?

“I should go.” Marc darted towards the door, and Jorge nodded, the pity clear in his eyes.

“Focus on yourself, and forget all about Valentino Rossi.”

“I will.”

“And if you want to talk, I’ll listen.”

*

Marc slunk back to his own motorhome, ignoring Alex’s raised eyebrow as he shuffled into the shower, leaving a trail of clothes that Alex would no doubt clear up before he got out.

The warm water was comforting, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of unease.

Why was Jorge being nice to him?

Sure they were kind of friends, as much as he could be with a rival anyway. And they had been messing around on social media, but mostly just to make Vale and his fans mad.

Marc let out a groan, sliding down to the bottom of the shower as he wondered how everything in his life always came back to Vale.

He sat in the shower until his fingers were wrinkled, and he took a deep breath as he prepared to face Alex, hoping that he could avoid talking about it forever.

His hair was still damp when he shuffled into the living room, his hoodie sleeves covering his hands, and he slumped down on the sofa next to Alex.

“Do you want to play FIFA?”

“Sure.” Marc took the controller, and he could feel Alex’s eyes staring at him.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine, I promise.”

Alex’s eyes were wide, concern written all over his face, but Marc couldn’t bear to burden Alex with any more of his drama with Vale.

He’d already suffered enough.

***

Marc pulled his hood up around his face, but the Pull & Bear hoodie was a big giveaway as to who was knocking on Jorge’s door.

Jorge didn’t look surprised to see him, and Marc shuffled into the motorhome, leaving his shoes by the door like he would at home, which seemed to amuse Jorge.

The silence was awkward, and Marc had to say something to break the tension, even though he knew that the race was probably the last thing that Jorge wanted to talk about.

“Not too bruised?”

“Just the ego.” Jorge snorted in laughter, and Marc smiled, relaxing as he wandered over to the sofa as though it was his own place.

He couldn’t keep his eyes off Jorge as he strolled to the kitchen, admiring the way that he filled out his jeans before blushing, his eyes glued to the hideous camouflage jacket that was slung over the chair across from him.

“Beer?”

“Thanks.” Marc shivered as the cold glass was pressed into his hand, not brave enough to look Jorge in the eye, and they sat in silence for so long that the condensation evaporated, punctuated only by occasional sips of beer.

Jorge fidgeted with his nearly empty bottle, and Marc could feel the awkwardness radiating out, both of them staring at the floor.

“Still upset about what I said?”

“Yes, but not because you said it.” Marc let out a little groan, slumping back against the sofa as he got comfy. “I’m upset because it’s true.”

Jorge downed the last of his beer, and Marc watched him walk away with fascination, peeling the label off the bottle as he wondered why Jorge was the person that he felt most comfortable talking to about all this. Marc smiled as Jorge sat back down, his leg brushing against his feet as Marc stretched out, resting his feet over Jorge’s lap

“Comfy there, honey?”

“Much, thank you darling.” Marc blew Jorge a kiss, both of them sniggering like teenagers talking about sex.

The giggles faded, and Jorge offered Marc another beer, the icy droplets dripping over his jeans. He took a breath, and Jorge stroked his knee, comforting him as he assembled his thoughts.

“There’s just something about Vale, you know?”

“I get it, he was the best when we were growing up.” Jorge took a swig of his beer as Marc did the same, nodding in agreement. “Also, he’s not a bad looking guy and he is superficially charming.”

Marc spluttered, coughing as he pulled himself together. “Wait... I thought you and Vale didn’t get on?”

“We don’t. He’s an asshole with a god complex, but he’s a pretty asshole with a god complex.”

Marc squinted at Jorge, his mouth hanging open as his thoughts ran away with themselves, and he tried to make sense of what Jorge had just said.

“You’re into guys?”

“No, I just dated Ricky for a year because I thought it would make me a better rider.” Jorge’s smirk said that he was enjoying this a little too much, and Marc found himself glancing around to check that there weren’t any cameras.

“Why are you telling me this? I could use this against you.” Marc felt his stomach twist, the alcohol sloshing through his veins and making the room spin.

“You’re not that kind of guy and… I don’t think I’m the only one who likes guys in this room.”

Marc went to speak, but no sounds came out, his mind unable to believe that anyone could look at him and know that he was bi.

But Jorge wasn’t just anyone.

He’d known him for years, and even though they hadn’t always got on, there was something that kept drawing them together.

“I think I should go.” Marc shot out of his seat, and he was heading for the door before Jorge realised what he was doing.

The sound of Jorge stumbling over a coffee table was followed by cursing, but Marc couldn’t stop his heart from pounding.

“Marc, wait.”

Jorge’s voice was filled with concern, but even that wasn’t enough to stop him walking out into the cool night air.

***

Days passed, and Marc was back home in Andorra, but that didn’t stop him blushing every time that he thought about what happened with Jorge.

The more he thought about it, the more he realised that Jorge was right, he shouldn’t be wasting his time and energy on Vale. He should focus on racing, and finding someone who was kind and caring, someone he could talk to, and who listened, someone who was his equal rather than a guy with a god-complex.

Someone like Jorge.

Marc sighed, he was already confused enough about his feelings, and it didn’t help that Jorge had sent messages that he wasn’t brave enough to answer.

Jorge: |  Aleix gave me your number.  
---|---  
Jorge: |  I hope you don’t mind.  
Jorge: |  I meant what I said. If you want to talk, I’m here for you.  
  
Marc couldn’t figure out why Jorge was being nice to him, but at the same time he longed to see Jorge again.

Marc: |  I’m sorry for walking out on you the other night.  
---|---  
Marc: |  Are you free to talk now?  
Jorge: |  Sure, I’ll be there in fifteen mins x  
  
Marc stared at his phone as though it was glowing, he hadn’t expected Jorge to come over, and now his heart was beating out of his chest at the thought of having to talk to Jorge in person.

And was that a kiss at the end of the text?

Looking down at his scruffy jeans and tatty hoodie, with his brother’s logo on it, Marc felt the urge to wear something nice, and he was sliding along the wooden floors, rushing towards his bedroom when someone knocked on the door.

Fuck.

He stood frozen, wondering if he should rush to get changed, but Jorge knocked again, and Marc found himself walking towards the door on trembling legs.

Marc threw the door open, and he howled in laughter when he saw what Jorge was wearing.

A bright blue hoodie with the number forty-two emblazoned over the chest.

“I lost a bet.” Jorge shrugged, a blush on his cheeks as he fidgeted on the spot. “What’s your excuse?”

“I’m just a good big brother.” Marc stuck his tongue out, and Jorge’s eyes were drawn to it, making Marc laugh again to break the tension.

Jorge followed him through to the living room, leaving his shoes neatly by the door, which Marc appreciated.

But then the awkwardness returned when they were sitting on the sofa, and Marc was glad for the half drunk can of Red Bull to fidget with so that he could avoid Jorge’s gaze.

“How are you doing?”

“Okay, you?”

“The bruises have faded, but Rins beat me in training this morning.”

“You’re getting old.” Marc gave him a playful nudge with his foot, and Jorge let their legs rest together in the middle of the sofa.

“Aren’t we all?”

Marc snorted in laughter, it hadn’t taken long for Jorge to get philosophical, and the way his green eyes sparkled with mischief had Marc reaching for his now empty can, draining the last few drops out of it.

“Still thinking about Vale?”

“No.” Marc felt his cheeks burn, but he couldn’t stop the words from spilling out.

“I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Jorge froze, and Marc was sure that he’d said the wrong thing. He stared at the floor, desperately trying to think of a way to change the subject, but then Jorge’s lips were on his.

Marc blinked, his eyes wide as he realised that it was really happening.

_Jorge Lorenzo is kissing me._

Marc smiled, his eyes falling shut as he relaxed into the kiss, and he let out a soft gasp, a noise of pure contentment, but Jorge pulled back.

“Is this the first time you’ve kissed a guy?”

“Yes.” Marc stroked the side of Jorge’s face, making him smile, and Marc felt his heart flutter with happiness.

“Did you like it?” Jorge’s smile wavered, his body tense as though he was scared of being rejected.

Marc let his lips answer, leaning in for another kiss, braver this time, his tongue teasing at Jorge’s lips, demanding more as Jorge pulled him on to his lap.

They kissed until they were breathless, both of them grinning as they stared at each other with loving eyes.

“Do you want to put a film on and then make out through it?” Jorge nuzzled against the side of Marc’s neck, his moist lips making him gasp all over again.

“I love the way that you think.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> *and obviously none of this actually happened, it is all a figment of my twisted imagination ;)


End file.
